


No Thanks Given

by MistyBeethoven



Series: Strange Couchfellows [22]
Category: John Wick (Movies)
Genre: Cards, Cooking, Couches, Dogs, Friendship, Gen, Grace - Freeform, Heist, John's had a bad last few years, Keanu Reeves - Freeform, Lizards, Loneliness, Prayer, Thanksgiving, Thanksgiving Dinner, Theft, Turkey - Freeform, getaway drivers, gratitude, ingratitude
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2021-02-18 07:29:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21590767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistyBeethoven/pseuds/MistyBeethoven
Summary: As Thanksgiving Day approaches, the Administrator becomes increasingly miffed that John Wick never thanked him for letting him sleep on his sofa.
Relationships: Administrator & John Wick, Administrator & John Wick's Unnamed Dog, Administrator & Winston (John Wick), John Wick & John Wick's Unnamed Dog
Series: Strange Couchfellows [22]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1374988
Comments: 8
Kudos: 13





	No Thanks Given

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CandyPandie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CandyPandie/gifts).



> To the marvelous CandyPandie. I am so grateful for your support and kind words!
> 
> And to everyone else out there: Happy Thanksgiving!
> 
> I don't like to ask for kudos or comments because if people want to they will give them and I respect that. I just want you all to know how grateful I am for all of those that have been given and for your support and kindness. You give a writer plenty to be thankful for; not just on this day but on every single one of 'em the whole year long!
> 
> Btw, I'm Canadian but that doesn't make it any less true! ;) <3

The rapid approach of Thanksgiving succeeded in making the Administrator aware of two very painful facts:

1.That he had little to be actually thankful for

and

2\. John Wick had never actually _thanked_ him for letting him sleep on his sofa. Or very much of anything else for that matter.

Perhaps this last fact would not have bothered the short bureaucrat so much if he had not thought of it in the first place. And also if the tall assassin had not seemed so ungrateful, ignorant and deadpan most of the time. It became a persistent and bothersome thorn in the Administrator's side the more he thought about it until it was the only thing he _could_ think of at all. This usually was the case when something began to bother him but his general anal retentiveness and common self-willed detatchment prevented him from voicing his needs in any relationship.

Of course, the pencil pusher rarely found himself in a relationship, preferring misanthropy instead, and was not quite sure still what his relationship with John Wick was.

Regardless of this fact, he covertly tried to wrangle at least one "thank you" from out of his quiet roommate. 

Sitting on the couch the Monday before Thanksgiving, Wick asked to see the remote. Seeing the perfect opportunity, the Administrator handed it over.

"Now what do you _say_?" the pierced man urged.

"What?" John Wick mumbled, flipping the channel off of a CSI: Miami rerun and on to an old Farscape one.

"THANK YOU!" the Administrator screamed.

"No problem," the assassin replied. "We've seen that one twice already."

The bureaucrat fumed as he rested his head on his tattooed hand, his elbow on the sofa's armrest.

* * *

The night before Thanksgiving itself, the Administrator began to prepare a decadent feast for John Wick in the hope of finally hearing those two desired words pass by his naked and beautiful lips. It was a difficult task to prepare a forty pound Turkey with all the accompaniments whilst keeping a curious dog and an iguana named Toby literally out of it. At one point, as he was preparing to stuff the damn bird, the Administrator found that it had already been stuffed with the lizard and had to pull the reluctant Toby out. Turning around, he discovered Dog's head buried deep in the bowl of stuffing.

"GET YOUR FUCKING DOG OUT OF THE KITCHEN, JOHN WICK!" the cranky chef yelled out to the Baba Yaga, whom was sitting on the sofa as usual.

At least the assassin came and fetched the canine quickly enough sensing his host's rising blood pressure.

"Thank you," the bureaucrat said as he wiped his sweaty brow: the words were out before he realized that he had said them.

"No problem," John Wick said, walking away, not noticing how angrily the Administrator was ramming the stuffing up the turkey's hole behind him.

* * *

With the arrival of Thanksgiving Day, the small servant of the High Table still held on to some weak hope of receiving some sign of gratefulness. Both John and the Administrator sat at the dinner table in front of a meal that the chef proudly knew looked scrumptious. It was hard to tell what Wick thought of it, his expression usually impassive, but hopefully the drool escaping from the corner of his lips was a good indication that he thought it looked delicious as well.

However, no matter how delectable it may have looked to John Wick, the man still refused to offer a single thank you.

Pouncing on yet another opportunity for a display of gratitude from the man he essentially let sponge off of him, the Administrator suggested Wick say the blessing for the meal.

"You want _me_ to say grace?" the Baba Yaga asked flatly.

"Yes," the bureaucrat stated. "It may be nice for you to list all the many things that you are thankful for, don't you think?"

John Wick furrowed his brow and then folded his hands and lowered his head as his companion did the same.

"God," John started. "Even though I only got the chance to spend a year with the woman I loved before she slowly and painfully died in front on my eyes over four excruciating years...and then the puppy that was her last gift to me was also killed as I was forced to watch after having been badly beaten in my own home...and besides the fact that I can still hear her poor little yelps as I cry myself to sleep each night...and the car that Helen also gave me is so banged up it now looks like a stepped on can of Coke...but there's no garage to keep it in anymore anyway because Santino D'Antonio blew up my house and all the precious photographs and mementos with it...and I've spent the rest of the time being hunted, betrayed and wounded by former friends and associates because I've got a bounty the size of a Hollywood actress' paycheck on my head...and I have just recently recovered from a fall from a tall hotel roof where I managed to hit every possible thing that I could on the way down...I suppose I must be thankful for one thing at least: that I'm about to eat a turkey dinner will suffice. So thanks God."

It spoke of how deeply resentful, bitter and jealous the small Administrator was that after listening to John Wick's sad and pathetic grace the one thing he focused on was how Wick had thanked God for the turkey and not him.

In his increasing wrath, teeth gritted, eyes opened wide and bloodshot, hands furiously clenching and unclenching the bureaucrat suddenly grabbed the poultry off of the table, rushed as quickly as he could with the forty pound object to the window and threw it outside. Both John Wick, whom had come to stand by his side, and he watched as the bird did the only bit of flying it ever would during its brief existence.

The Administrator turned to look at John Wick in defiance as he wiped his hands off on each other. "How's that for your _precious_ turkey dinner you great big, dumb dog of an assassin?" he asked in triumph. "What do you have to be thankful for now?"

He did not expect for Wick to slowly walk towards the couch and retrieve something from under its cushion. Nor did he expect him to walk back and slowly hand him the item saying, "Here."

As the Administrator took the object he saw that it was a card.

"If you haven't noticed," John Wick confessed, "I'm a man of very few words. I think that says it all for me."

Casting a flabbergasted glance up at the stoic hitman, the Administrator tore into the envelope and pulled out the card. On its cover was a photograph of a puppy dressed up as a turkey. On the inside it simply stated:

Thanks for everything,

\- _John_

Flipping it over, the bureaucrat saw the word "Hallmark" and felt even worse.

"Helen took that photo," John Wick informed, pointing to the cute Bassett hound pup.

Truly mortified now beyond anything he had ever experienced, knowing the assassin had been so grateful he had given to him a card featuring a photo taken by his beloved Helen, the Administrator knew what true ingratitude was when he looked deep inside himself: he finally didn't have to spend Thanksgiving Day alone yet all he could do was complain.

He swiftly stuck his head outside of the window, seeing the turkey still lying in the street. "I can still go and get it!" he declared, feeling John's head now peering over his shoulder.

They both watched as a transport came out of nowhere and ran over the fat and already dead bird.

* * *

John Wick waited behind the wheel of the Pontiac the Administrator had managed to hotwire. When he saw a short figure dressed completely in black from head to toe rushing out of the Continental hotel carrying a large turkey, he smiled and revved up the engine. The bird was still toasty: fresh streams of steam rising from its plump body and drifting into the snowy sky.

When the man with the turkey hurriedly hopped into the vehicle, Wick drove away, leaving skid marks on the New York City street.

The Administrator pulled off his black ski mask, the turkey resting on his lap. "Hurry would you!" he demanded. "This thing is hot! In more ways than one!"

John Wick beamed. "I always wanted to be a getaway driver and to not have to do all the work myself. Thank you."

It was the Administrator's turn to smile now. "You're very welcome, John Wick."

* * *

After the meal was finished, the servant of the High Table headed straight to work. He knew that having a reputation as a workaholic it would only raise suspicions if he deterred from his usual course of behaviour. He had never taken Thanksgiving Day off before.

In truth, he really never had had much reason to be thankful before John Wick came along.

Placing the object that he had brought with him on to his desk, the bureaucrat quickly answered the phone when it rang. "Administration."

"I am Winston, the manager of the New York Continental," a reserved voice stated on the other end. "Whom do I speak to in regards of reporting a theft?"

"What was stolen?" the Administrator asked, already knowing the answer.

"One turkey," came Winston's prim reply. "We still have several but propriety and all that...It was a ninja dwarf, I suspect: he was dressed all in black and karate chopped my concierge on the way out."

"Who are you calling a dwarf you pygmy?" the Administrator snapped. "Why are you celebrating a Yankee holiday anyway? Go chill out and have a bloody cup of tea!"

There was an outraged snort before the Englishman replied testily, "Well really..." and then hung up.

Giving his head a sharp and satisfied nod, the bureaucrat's eyes fell on the card on his desk and the name scribbled there:

_John_

It shouldn't cause too much trouble if it was seen, the Administrator thought, touching it gently and then smiling. There were many people out there in the world called John, after all.

A lot of them were played by some actor named Keanu Reeves.

**Author's Note:**

> Tomorrow I plan on doing a Black Friday special called "Black Fried Egg." I'll also tell you about the Ad & John dream that I'm thankful for having this week! :D <3


End file.
